


Rain.

by merlybird500



Series: Harry Potter and the Much Better FamILY [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Half-veela Roman, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Not Beta Read, Originally Posted on Tumblr, The Dursley's are the actual worst, i don't know how to tag, werewolf patton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 05:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlybird500/pseuds/merlybird500
Summary: Patton's out walking in the rain, when he comes across a small boy sitting in a flower garden.





	Rain.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: A bit of background info, Patton’s a werewolf and Roman’s his half-veela boyfriend. They live in America but Roman’s family lives in England which is why they are there. Also, I know that the adoption process in this is incredibly inaccurate, however this is my story, so just say that Patton used magic or something.

Patton loved the rain. He loved the way that the clouds swept in to hide him from the moon’s prying eyes, the different tones of grey and white etched across the sky like a paint across a canvas. He loved the cool feel of the raindrops against his skin, the way that it soothed the wolf prowling under his skin. He loved the colours that the sky turned, blues and greys and purples, and the sound of the rain when it thundered against the roof.

Yeah, the rain was the best. It was the best of the best, so he went for a walk after dinner to appreciate it. Okay, so maybe he’d gotten a few odd looks, who wouldn't look at him weirdly? He was a chubby 23-year old in a sweater-vest, blue polo shirt, and khakis, out walking barefoot in the pouring rain. However, rain being good did not explain why there was a small child crouched in a flowerbed out the front of the house a few houses down from Roman’s uncle’s house. At least he looked like a child, with a mop of soaking-wet, raven black hair and stick-thin limbs.

The kid looked up as Patton approached, emerald green eyes staring up from behind circular glasses.

“Heya kiddo,” Patton said, careful to keep his voice soft. “Whatcha doin’ out in the rain?”

Green-Eyes, as Patton mentally dubbed him (he couldn’t just call him “the kid”) blinked. “What’re you doing out in the rain?”

Patton couldn’t help but laugh at that, Green-Eyes had a sense of humour, but he quickly bit back his amusement when the kid flinched back.

“I’m just enjoying the weather.” Patton said, slowly kneeling down next to the kid. Green-Eyes just looked down and picked at the dirt under his stubby nails. “I really like the rain,” Patton said, settling back onto his haunches and gazing up at the grey sky. “The way it makes the sky look like someone’s taken a paintbrush and splashed a bunch of grey and white paint onto a bunch of blue paper. I think it’s super pretty.”

Green-Eyes nodded. He moved to mirror Patton’s posture, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap. The soaked fabric of his shirt shifted to reveal a patch of bruised, purple-blue skin on his bony arm, and the wolf swelled angrily inside Patton’s chest.

“You think you could tell me what brings you out in this lovely rain?? Patton asked.

“I was being too loud,” he said, “Aunt Petunia has visitors over this evening, and I was getting in the way.”

“And how old are you kiddo?” Green-Eyes proudly held up his hand, then paused, frowning. After a moment, he stuck up another finger. “Six!”

Patton’s heart sunk in his chest. Green-Eyes was tiny for his age. He had his suspicions, and this only further confirmed them. “Is there any chance I could speak to your parents about this?”

“Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia say they died in a car crash.” Green-Eyes paused, and tilted his head to one side. He blinked once, twice, three times, reminding Patton of Glorian, Roman’s owl. “I don’t know what that is though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Patton leant back, taking a deep breath. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

Green-Eyes blinked up at him from behind his glasses, and his lips split into a wide smile. “Nobodies ever asked me that before!”

The loud bang of a door slamming open cut through the quiet, and Green-Eyes flinched back, his mouth snapping shut. “Get inside, Freak!”

Patton turned to see the speaker, silhouetted by the light from inside the house. It was a young boy, or Patton assumed it was a boy, reminiscent of Violet from Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory, albeit less blue.

“Hey now,” Patton reprimanded, Dad Senses™ activating. “That’s not a very nice thing to call someone.”

“And how is that any of your business?” A new voice cut in, the speaker a beefy man with a large moustache who seemed to have forgotten that humans had evolved to have necks. “How my son talks to my nephew is his business, not yours. And anyway,” he said, sneering, “he is a freak. Just look at him.”

Patton stood up, moving in front of Green-Eyes protectively. “Vernon, I presume.”

Moustache puffed up, face turning a shade of red similar to rotten tomatoes. “Did the freak tell you that?”

“Your nephew’s been out in the cold for what seems like quite a while. I don’t understand why you aren’t worried about him getting sick.” Patton remarked, what Roman called his Disapproving Dad Look™ in full force.

Moustache (Patton refused to call him Vernon. To call him Vernon was to give him respect, and people like that didn’t deserve Patton’s respect) turned even redder. “He is none of your business young man. What my nephew does is my business, not yours!”

“So you admit that him being out in the rain is your business?”

“What?” Moustache blustered, “Yes? No? You’re trying to confuse me.”

“And succeeding apparently,” Patton said snidely to himself, then plastered his most innocent smile onto his face. Behind him, Green-Eyes snickered. Whoops. He hadn’t meant for anyone to hear that. “I’m just concerned about the welfare of your nephew. I’d hate for someone to have to call the Child Protection Services.”

“What? He’s doing just fine under our care”

Patton ramped his well-meaning smile up to eleven. “I don’t see how leaving large, hand-shaped bruises on your nephew’s arm counts as care, my friend.”

“Why do you care so much about some random freak-show?” Violet 2.0 asked, evidently trying to exude his father’s bluster. Yup, Patton could see the family resemblance.

“I’m just a bystander who cares too much,” Patton replied. The wolf growled threateningly in his chest, and Patton was struck by a surge of protectiveness. He shifted slightly to further shield the small boy behind him.

“Well if you care so much about him, why don’t you take the little freak?” Vernon snapped.

Patton was suddenly incredibly grateful that he lived with Roman, and had picked some acting tips from him, because in that moment he was having trouble keeping his jaw off of the ground. Yes, he could tell that Moustache didn’t hold his nephew in the highest regard, but he never would’ve guessed that he’d abandon the boy at the drop of a hat. Normally, Patton wouldn't say that he hated people, but he really hated this guy.

He turned, kneeling in front of Green-Eyes. “Would you like that, kiddo?”

Green-Eyes’s green eyes widened. Patton smiled gently. “Just say the word.”

The boy nodded, slowly at first then speeding up into a frenzy of frantic head-bobbing.

“What do you say then, Moustache?” Patton said, straightening up to his full height of 5’8”. He had an inch on Moustache, he noted with a touch of vindictiveness.

“What-” Moustache spluttered, face purpling. “You- you- Fine! Great! Take the little freak off of my hands! Just don’t come crawling back when he corrupts you with his freakishness!”

Patton placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, feather-light and comforting. “Believe me. I won’t.” He swallowed down the instinct to just snatch Green-Eyes up and apparate away with him. “So what’s your name, kiddo?”

Green-Eyes looked up at him, and Patton was struck by how tiny he was. All big green eyes, thin face and knobbly knees, he looked incredibly small, drowning in over-sized clothes. The wolf growled, seemingly protective for the first time in Patton’s memory. “Harry Potter, sir.”

“No need to call me sir, Harry, Patton’s fine. Now, you go and get your things, and I’ll be back for you soon.” He turned to Moustache, Disapproving Dad Stare™ in full force. “You will treat Harry nicely, and I will be back to sign whatever papers I need to sign, and to pick Harry up.” He ruffled Harry’s hair. “Don’t worry kiddo. I’ll be back for you as soon as I can be.”

Harry smiled up at him, wide-eyed and innocent. “I believe you sir- mister- Mister Patton.”

Patton shot Moustache one more Dad Look™, and turned to walk back down the street.

He soon arrived back at Roman’s Uncle’s house, the house the same cookie-cutter dollhouse as every other house on the street. He’d found it endearing when he first saw it, but now, after meeting Harry and Moustache the quaint tidiness of it had lost its charm.

He let himself in as quietly as he could, at the same time doing his best not to drip on anything too nice. After everything that had happened in the last hour or so he’d forgotten about the pouring rain, and he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge the chill that it had brought upon him.

Stripping out of his sopping wet clothes and hanging them up on the heated-towel rail in the bathroom, he pulled on his comfiest cat onesie (yes, he packed multiple) and fluffiest socks.

When he finally left the bathroom and made his way out to the living room, he found Roman, fast asleep on the foldout couch. Patton smoothed a stray strand of his boyfriend’s flaxen hair out of his face, and brushed a kiss over his forehead, before climbing into bed beside him.

Apparently Moustache had friends in high places because a few days later Patton found himself in a courtroom, signing his name on adoption papers with a Roman-like flourish. Another few hours passed, and he stepped through Roman’s Uncle’s door, Harry sleeping feather-light in his arms. He shut the door behind him with his foot, and it closed with a satisfying click.

Behind him, Roman cleared his throat. Patton jumped, and spun around, the epitome of a man with his hand stuck in the cookie jar.

He smiled as innocently as he could. “Hi honey! How was your day?”

Roman crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, my boyfriend disappeared on me right after breakfast. But other than that it’s been okay. How was your day?”

“Great!” “So what’s that?” Roman asked, pointing a manicured finger towards the bundle in Patton’s arms.

Wait. Did Patton forget to tell Roman that he was adopting a child? Whoops. He dialled his smile up to eleven, chuckling uneasily.

“Surprise!”


End file.
